Forge Ahead
by KateToast
Summary: She would forge ahead. WE. Spoilers for AWE.


**Disclaimer**: Still not mine.

**A/N**: Kind of goes along with His Father and A New Man, all of these stories in the post-AWE universe I'm slowly creating.

**XXX**

Several weeks after Will had left her to fulfill his duties as captain of the _Flying Dutchman _for ten years, nobly ferrying souls to the afterlife, Elizabeth realized something was amiss.

And she had a pretty good idea of what exactly it was.

She'd been in a slight depression since he'd gone, her mind wandering often, the same moment appearing every time she closed her eyes: his face as he pulled away from her, the feel of his lips pressing against her hair, his freshly-torn chest where his heart would have resided had he still had one, the sight of his back to her as he walked away, off of 'their' island and towards the _Dutchman_, not looking back. She had wished he had shot her just one more glance, whether it was a smile of hope or a frown of sadness, but she had understood.

He wouldn't have been able to leave if he had looked back.

Her dreams were full of him, sometimes as the young boy she had known as a stray orphan found lost at sea, sometimes as the blacksmith's promising apprentice, sometimes as the polite young man who had paid her compliments, sometimes the swashbuckling pirate he'd become as of late.

But usually, he was the loving and caring man she had just recently married, the man who was willing to spend ten years away from her so they could then have eternity together. Those were her favorite dreams, and the ones she woke from with a soft smile.

Those first listless weeks were the hardest for her to bare, however. She'd had little to do other than pack her favorite things from the governor's mansion in Port Royal and move into the new, small house she'd acquired with inheritance money. It was on a bluff, overlooking the sea, and she spent most of her nights sitting on the green grass staring out at the water, fruitlessly praying for a dark and haunted ship with a handsome captain to appear on the horizon. She thought of pirates and ships and battles and her new title, Pirate King, and began mentally counting down the days until she would see her husband again.

The sun had risen, signaling a new day, and, used to being awake and alert on a ship's deck at dawn, Elizabeth had once again trudged out of bed, wondering what she would do with herself today. She still had approximately one-hundred-and-eighteen months until Will returned to her, so her agenda was quite free for the time being.

The only thing that had made this morning different from her past few weeks of mornings since she'd returned home was that she felt seasick. And she wasn't actually on the sea, so that could not have been her problem.

She had dismissed her friendly maid Mary's insistences that she get back in bed and not lift a finger until she felt better. Elizabeth Turner had been through countless vicious and violent battles, the latest in the middle of a maelstrom, no less, and had told Mary just that (in the kindest- but most stubborn- way possible, of course). But then the fatigue and dizziness had arrived a few days later, and the nausea was persistent, so finally Elizabeth took her maid's advice and stayed in bed.

Only to have her mind run rampant.

Elizabeth was not a stupid woman. She had had suspicions since her first day of nausea, and now she once more went back to the day Will had left her, the short time they'd had on their beautiful island that had served as their honeymoon. The love and lust in his eyes, their passionate kisses that seemed to never end, their gentle caresses and pleasure-filled moans that Elizabeth still worried crewmembers had heard from the two anchored ships a good distance off of land. The way he had smiled at her, how he had run his fingers through her hair, the smell in his skin that had reminded her of the ocean. She'd been looking forward to her wedding night for quite a while, and it had not disappointed.

But now Elizabeth was afraid. Terrified to acknowledge the real truth that explained her symptoms perfectly.

After two weeks Mary finally uttered the words aloud that Elizabeth hadn't been able to.

"Pardon me saying, ma'am, but do you think that you could possibly be, well… with child?"

And Elizabeth knew the moment the words had passed Mary's lips. "I think…," she'd began hesitantly, not able to meet her maid's eyes. "I think I am." She'd briefly explained her situation to the maid when she had first returned to Port Royal, informing Mary that yes, she was married, but no, her husband would not be home for quite some time, no specifics given.

The doctor had come that evening to do a short, routine check, and had told Elizabeth that she was in perfect health for a woman in her condition.

Late that night Elizabeth Turner sat in bed and cried for the first time in weeks until there was nothing left. She sobbed for her father and his death, for Will and his duty that was keeping them apart for so long, for James Norrington and his determinedness that had lasted until the end, and especially for the child she was carrying, the child who would be born to a Pirate King mother, the daughter of the late governor, and an absent father whose heart was locked away in a chest, bound to ferry souls for ten years. The child would be nine before it would be able to even meet its own father.

After crying for so long, Elizabeth wiped her cheeks and stood resolutely, with newfound purpose, and opened the chest she kept beside her bed with the key she wore on a necklace. Will's heart beat in a corner of it, a steady thump that comforted her despite the ridiculousness and the unfairness of the entire situation. Her hand moved to her flat stomach, and she let her palm rest there as she stared at the heart. Her husband's heart.

She wasn't sure how exactly to be a mother; what made some mothers good and some mothers bad. Her own mother had died when she was so young that the woman was only a memory to her now, a distant imprint on her soul. She didn't want to fail at this. She didn't want to let Will down. She had to be both parents for their child, at least until he returned. But ten years was such a long time, and there were so many things to teach a child, Elizabeth wasn't sure she could do it all alone.

But she would. She would shake herself from this depression and move forward. She would teach her child how to speak and read and count, and how to hoist sails and navigate ships and effectively row boats. She would tell her child of she and Will's pasts, that they both were, and still are, pirates. That she is the Pirate King and captain of the _Empress_ in Singapore, and that Will is a second-generation pirate and is captain of the_ Flying Dutchman_, a task that was his only way of living, his only way of coming back to them. Her child would know as much as she could tell him or her.

And she would love them- she already _did_ love them- and they would know it every day of their life. That they are a blessing to her, a constant reminder of the love she and Will share. And when Will returned (which Elizabeth was positive he would) they would be a family.

So she would forge ahead. For her husband, for her unborn child, and, most of all, for herself.

**XXX**

_End._


End file.
